Mu Ziquan was lost in thought when a displeased voice cut in. "The food is all on the table. Don't you want to eat?"
Seeing Mu Ziquan staring dazedly at Gu Jiaojiao's back, Su Shuochi strode over and blocked his line of sight.
"I can't push this wheelchair myself." Mu Ziquan lowered his head, his fists clenched tightly. He was panicking inside, terrified his private feelings would be exposed.
He glanced up at Su Shuochi, only to see him glaring with a cold, sinister gaze.
If looks could kill, he knew he would have already died countless times over under Su Shuochi's glare.
In truth, Mu Ziquan felt deeply insecure. In his twenty-five years, he had never experienced anything romantic.
'He'd never fallen for anyone before, but the first time it happens, it's with *his* wife. What kind of rotten luck is this?!'
"After we eat, I'll let you use my automatic wheelchair," Su Shuochi said, his face devoid of expression.
